The Wolfmaster
by Goldie Jean Aeglaca
Summary: Action continues from Openings and Closings. Eric, Carly, Godric, and Sookie contend with the fallout from Russell Edgington's death. Eric/OC, Godric/Sookie
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

A/N This story picks up right after Openings and Closings. Thank you for your encouragement. No copyright infringement is intended.

Sookie, Adele, and Melissa sat in front the television in Melissa's sitting room, which was bathed in the afternoon light, watching the wide-eyed blonde CNN reporter enumerate the sightings from the night before of Henrich Himmler, once famous Nazi, now apparently suicidal vampire, from around New York City.

"Numerous sightings across the city, from the Bowery all the way uptown to Fort Tryon park, confirm that, as of last night, Heinrich Himmler still haunted the streets of New York City. According to our own reporter, Soraya Shahzad, Himmler sees little reason to persist in this world, and will likely seek his own destruction. Until we have confirmation, however, we must assume that Himmler made it through the night and will reappear at sundown." The reporter looked down briefly, before placing her hand over her ear. "I'm sorry, I'm just receiving notice that one of our I-reporters sent in footage a few minutes ago that she captured on her morning run. We do not, as of yet, have confirmation that this is Himmler, but the man's clothing matches that in which he was last seen when leaving the hospital." The reporter took a deep breath and said, "CNN would like to caution our viewers that this is explicit and potentially upsetting footage. If you have children in the room, we encourage you to send them out of the room now."

"Lordy," Adele said breathlessly, "I don't know if I should watch."

"We can change the channel, Adele," Melissa offered, "or turn it off."

"No, no," Adele shook her head. "If this is him, it's history, and I shouldn't shy away from it."

A rough, jumpy cell-phone video began, and the image of a man wearing a hospital gown came into focus. He looked toward the eastern horizon, and, as the sun crested over its nightime limit, he extended his arms, and smoke began to rise from his limbs and chest. Quickly, flames stirred, and all of his skin caught fire. After about four minutes, while the auteur behind the camera said, "Well, he could have hidden if he wanted, so I guess this is what he planned. I'm not going to stop a vamp from doing away from himself." After that philosophical declaration, the vampire came apart in a shower of flaming gore.

Sookie took in a sharp breath. "Oh, my lord. Poor man."

"Poor man," Adele scoffed. "I'm not one to speculate about the ways of the Lord, Sookie, but I guess that Himmler got a taste of the fire and brimstone that await him in the forever after."

"No matter what, Godric will be relieved to know that Himmler's over and done with." Melissa wrote down the time and the name of the reporter who released the news, as well as the location of Himmler's demise. "I should probably call Carly to find out when they're coming back to New Orleans."

"It will be nice to have her back," Sookie suggested, but quickly added, clearly for Melissa's benefit, "although it's been great to spend time with you, Melissa."

Melissa smiled weakly, and Adele paid close attention to the interaction between her grand-daughter and their new friend. Although Melissa seemed to like Sookie, on occasion she betrayed herself and showed some jealousy toward her. Melissa and Jason spent most of the past two days together as he learned about the palace and his future responsibilities in New Orleans, but Melissa kept her distance from him. Adele intuited that Melissa and Godric had a relationship more complicated than just secretary and employer, but Adele also knew that her grandson was a hound-dog and would cozy up to any attractive woman who crossed his path. Every moment Jason spent with the voluptuous red-head, he flirted up a storm. But Adele knew that he wasn't a good runners-up prize for any young girl, especially not for one who'd dated a gentleman and a king, even if he was king of vampires.

Melissa looked at her watch and said, "I think the sun should have set in New York, so I'll get upstairs and call Carly, or confirm with the King of New York."

Adele chuckled softly. "I still can't get used to the ideas of kings and queens in the United States of

America."

"I know," Sookie agreed. "It's a whole different world than the one we thought we lived in. I guess civics classes will be getting a little bit more complicated."

With a faint smile, Melissa suggested, "I doubt vampire monarchies will wind up in textbooks or on school curricula. It's important, if you go back to Bon Temps, not to say anything about Godric or the structure of vampire society."

While Adele and Sookie stole a glance at one another, Melissa walked out of the sitting room, through the hallway and up the stairs to the central communications office. Although it was technically Melissa's office, she felt that it was still Godric's, still his "command center." After calling up Carly's cellphone number on the computer screen, and Eric's as a backup, Melissa dialed Carly's number.

In New York, the vampire and the valkyrie lay on the king-sized bed in Eric's pied-a-terre. Eric lay on his back, with his arms extended above his head, while Carly's body curled around his, her legs splayed across his hips, and her arms stretched across his chest. They'd fallen asleep in a post-orgasmic haze and still lay exposed.

The cellphone's ring awakened Eric, who picked up Carly's phone with a strident tone in his voice. "Eric Northman. What do you want?"

"Hi, um," Melissa stumbled, struggling to make sense of his greeting. "This is Melissa, Godric's assistant."

"Yes," Eric answered, "of course. What can I do for you, Melissa?"

"I just wanted you to know," she hesitated, "Himmler is dead."

Melissa waited, counting, until she heard Carly stir in the background.

"Yeah, what?" Carly asked, with a yawn.

Eric replied, "The Nazi's dead."

Carly sat up and stretched. "So can we go home?"

"It seems so," Eric answered her. "Melissa," he said, redirecting his attention to the phone. "Please let Godric know we'll be joining you this evening as soon as we say our good-byes to Jean-Jacques and Carly's mother, Edna."

"I will," Melissa affirmed, just as she heard the connection disappear. "That was weird," Melissa said to herself. "I thought they'd both be awake."

In New York, Eric leaned over Carly and kissed her. "It seems our work here is done, my beloved."

Carly rubbed her face with her palms and said, "I don't think that's entirely true, but I'm sure there's more for us to do in New Orleans and in Shreveport. Or in Jackson."

"What do you mean?" Eric sat up straight and stared at her. "I will be happy if I never have to think of Edgington again."

Carly rose and began to dress as she talked to her vampire. "Well, we've killed the king of Mississippi, but I don't think that will be the end of it. Shouldn't that mean that you could become king if you wanted to?"

Eric was silent as he thought for a moment. "Perhaps, but I have no interest in that mosquito-infested wasteland or in a crown."

Thinking back to Eric's discussions with the Magister, and Eric's refusal to take on a kingship until he'd "fulfilled his responsibilities," Carly wondered if, now, with his revenge complete, he'd want to be a king. "It does seem," Carly suggested, "as if you're entitled to take over, or at least to have a say in who takes over."

Eric rose to his full height, stretched, and Carly took in the glorious view. Every muscle rippled, and her eye traveled across his chest, down his abdomen, and along the girdle that delineated his masculine form. "Enjoying yourself," Eric asked.

Carly extended her arm and drew him toward her. "Very much, but it's rude to distract me from our conversation by being so gorgeous."

Eric took a sauntering turn and then winked at her. "Nonetheless, there's nothing to discuss. I have too many reasons to remain in Louisiana and too little ambition for a crown, even now that I have avenged my father."

Eric spoke decisively and added, "After a kiss, we will go pay our respects to Jean-Jacques and then go home." Their kiss began tentatively, with their lips brushing against each other, their tongues meeting softly, until they began to devour each other.

The valkyrie pushed her vampire away. "Enough. If you get me started, I won't leave this apartment. Remember, I don't have to eat anymore."

Eric smiled and purred. "I forgot. A valkyrie can match a vampire's stamina. But you are such a tease to offer me such forbidden things, Ms. Michael." He caressed her cheek and neck and then dressed.

After a brief phone call to warn Jean-Jacques of their visit, the two activated the security system and locked up the apartment.

Arm in arm, they walked down the hallway to the elevator. Carly turned to look one more time and sighed, "I like it here, Eric. Can we visit again?"

"Any time. You seem to enjoy New York, although you never suggested such fondness for it. From what you said, I guessed it was uncomfortable, too crowded with minds for you to enjoy yourself."

Carly paused and thought as the elevator doors opened and they moved inward. Once the doors closed and the elevator began to descend, Carly said, "It always was, but now," she looked up at him and finished, "I can control what I hear and how much I hear."

At the bottom floor, Eric suggested, "With so much control, so much power, you will need to guard against overconfidence. Even though the world knows about vampires, you still need to remain a mystery, otherwise you will have little quality of life."

"And I suppose," Carly philosophized, "in a few years, I might have to pass as a vampire in order to go out in public with you."

"I feel it will be healthiest for us to avoid notoriety, although we don't have an auspicious beginning with that." Eric laughed. They both, along with everyone else in Shreveport, would long remember the lurid description of Fangtasia's opening night that appeared in the paper.

Eric hailed a cab, which took them to Jean-Jacques's home, even though traffic was fairly heavy.

Jean-Jacques was waiting for them at the door and greeted them with open arms. "Mes amis! Thank you for coming to see me before you depart."

The king kissed and embraced them both.

"Jean-Jacques, your hospitality and help have been invaluable. We know that Godric looks forward to seeing you again."

Carly added, "And I'm grateful for everything you've done for my mother and for Abdullah."

"My pleasure, on all accounts, my dear friends. I have little time to travel from the city and fear the jackals might swarm if anyone knew that I was away. Thus, I hope that Arianna might grace me with a ride, so to speak, some time soon." Jean-Jacques chuckled loudly.

"If she doesn't, please allow me to transport you. I'm more than happy to oblige." Carly smiled at Jean-Jacques and then Eric.

"I have little love for the 'direct route,' Jean-Jacques. I'll warn you, it's a disquieting sensation." Eric shivered almost imperceptibly, but Carly felt his anxiety.

"Nonetheless, I believe it's the only chance I have to catch up with my old acquaintance." Jean-Jacques grasped both their hands and said, "But I fear I keep you to long. I anticipate you wish to say your farewells to your mother in addition."

"Indeed," Eric agreed. "We should go." The three said their good-byes again and the couple headed out on foot the few blocks to Edna's townhouse. As they walked the long uptown blocks, Carly enjoyed the sensation of holding Eric's hand, even though she struggled to keep up with his long strides. If anyone would have told her that once she'd tread these sidewalks with a lover, especially one as beautiful and powerful as this one, she would have laughed.

They hadn't notified Edna of their impending arrival, so Carly unlocked the door—Edna had insisted that Carly carry her key with her at all times now—and called out for her. "Mom, Abdullah? Are you home?"

"Carly," Edna replied from the kitchen. "Please, we're just eating a little supper."

As they passed through the sitting room, Carly and Eric heard light-hearted laughter coming from the kitchen. They crossed the threshold into the room and saw Abdullah first, just as he lifted Edna's hand to his lips for a kiss.

"I hope you don't begrudge me, Carly, if I presume to show my intent this evening," Abdullah turned and rose to embrace her as she walked beside him. "Last night I screwed my courage to the sticking place, as they say, as asked your mother to be my bride."

Even though she tried to restrain her expression, to subdue her surprise, Carly realized she jumped slightly at the news. "Mom, really? Wow!"

"Congratulations are in order, Abdullah," Eric said. "And my best wishes to you, Edna." Eric smiled at Carly's mother and added, "Or is it the reverse. I've rarely encountered engaged humans."

Edna looked sheepishly at her daughter and asked, "Are you angry, Carly?"

"No, mom," Carly lunged forward to hug her mother tightly. "You deserve to be happy, and I'm happy for you. When's the wedding?"

Edna looked to her fiancee before she answered her daughter. "If Abdullah doesn't mind, I'd like to get married in late March or early April, once the flowers at the Cloisters are at their peak."

"Wherever and whenever my beloved wishes to marry, I will be grateful and humbled to oblige." Abdullah smiled broadly as he said, "my beloved."

Carly's mother continued, "Nightfall doesn't come too late in spring, so our human guests won't feel put out." Edna stole another conspiratorial glance at Abdullah before saying, "And we want Jean-Jacques to officiate. Do you think he will?"

"He will be ecstatic," Eric opined, "except he might decide he'd rather be archbishop of New York than king."

The two happy couples laughed and traded observations about the art show, which had been a rousing success, before saying their farewells.

"Mom," Carly interrupted as Edna began to move toward the door, "could we actually leave from upstairs instead?"

"From the terrace?" Edna knew that Eric could fly, but hadn't expected him to do so within the city limits.

"No," Carly answered, "just from my room. I can take us back to New Orleans from there."

Edna put her hand to her throat and swallowed. "I forgot you can do that, Carly. It just seems so frightening."

"It is," Eric agreed. "But it is the fastest way to get from place to place and allows us to move secretly. No matter how much I dislike it, teleportation has much to recommend it."

"Why would we want to spend two hours on a plane when we could just be there?" Carly giggled, enjoying the public display of Eric's discomfort. "Why not take advantage of my ability for something that benefits us?" Just to add a little bit of ribbing, Carly said, while embracing him tightly, "What's a little nausea to a thousand year old viking warrior?"

"Teleportation does not make me nauseated. It's simply unnatural," Eric argued.

Laughing heartily, while Abdullah and Edna seemed clearly discomfitted, Carly asked. "And going six hundred miles an hour while strapped within a metal tube flanked by jets is natural?"

"No, Carly, but I agree with Eric. When we come to visit, we shall fly in an airplane." Edna kissed her daughter's forehead and then stood on her tip-toes to kiss Eric's cheek. "But you can use your room as an arrivals and departures lounge whenever you like."

Once inside her childhood bedroom, Carly reduced the distance until they embraced, and then she held tightly to him and thought of Eric's chamber within Godric's palace. Since she was unsure whether the sun had set in Louisiana, o she decided to err on the side of caution and seek privacy in the grand New Orleans building. From Eric's perspective, their bodies compressed into a densely packed smoke that spiraled through a tunnel filled with brilliantly variegated lights that reminded him of the aurora borealis.

They returned to solidity beside the elegant bed within his quarters, and Eric collapsed against the headboard. "Ugh, you are a powerful beast, Carly."

"Five minutes to recover in this beautiful room, with me in your arms, can't be harder than two hours in a plane." Carly kissed his palms and then his fingertips.

Carly continued to kiss his wrists and arms, finally leaning her body against him. "Is it really that bad?" Guilt washed over her, guilt from enjoying the power she held over her vampire, over a being that had lived a thousand years.

"No, you're right." Eric raised her chin so their eyes would meet. "But I fear you enjoy this too much, my valkyrie. The first lesson you must learn is to keep your power in check. Remember, to the outside world, you're a human, and you can only remain by my side as a human, at least for the foreseeable future. If you continue this way, you'll have to live a very different existence."

Chastened, Carly drew away and sat down on the sofa. "You're right, Eric. I'm sorry."

They remained in their respective corners of the suite in silence until Eric felt the sun set. Carly thought about his words. _Have I become cocky already? I wouldn't know what to do if I lost him, or if I had to pretent to be a vampire. _She realized, nonetheless, that her life, as she knew it, could only last another ten years. No matter what, people would begin to notice that there was something wrong with her, that she wasn't aging normally. With another pang of guilt, Carly thought of her boss—the medical examiner—her friend Dr. Ellen Watson-Linkmann, who just discovered, just a few days ago, that she had cancer and had few treatment options. In a short space of time, Ellen would cease to exist, and Carly would take the energy left from her and transform it into something new. In a moment, Carly realized the terror of immortality, that she would cling tightly to what and who she loved, but that she still faced an eternity without them—without her mother, Abdullah, Sookie, Adele. Everyone she liked, everyone she loved—except Eric and Arianna—would eventually disappear from her life. Even they—and she herself—wasn't truly immortal. Her father had left her had died at the hands of another valkyrie—or whatever they really called themselves. She still didn't know their real name or their real language.

Almost as if he knew what she was thinking, Eric came to stand behind her with his hands on her shoulders. He stood there without speaking until Carly began to cry.

"The weight of it can be overwhelming, but there is more life to enjoy than death to suffer."

Turning to look up toward him, Carly answered, "But that's what I'll see and feel every moment of every day from now on. I'm a death vacuum cleaner."

"Yes, Carly, but you transform that energy into life. It's your choice, how you see what you do." Eric leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I will be with you as you struggle with this, but I cannot make these decisions for you."

"Thank you."

"You are welcome." Eric raised her up so that he could lift her over the back of the sofa. "We should make our presence known now and see what news Godric and Melissa have."

Once they entered the main hall, they soon encountered human members of Godric's staff. A heavily armed guard, who reckonized Eric, approached them soon after seeing them. "Sheriff Northman, I had no idea you were here."

"Yes, Bob, we got here shortly before dawn this morning, and I had to go to my chamber immediately. I didn't even have time to undress, as you can see." Eric gestured toward his clothes. "Carly was equally tired, so she just awoke a few minutes ago."

"We're happy to have you, sir," Bob shook his head, "but I need to have words with the vampires who are at the perimeter. They're supposed to have a full count of who is on the grounds."

"That is my fault," Eric smiled. "I flew directly to the door, and I have a keycard to enter the palace."

"Still, I need to find out why there was no papertrail. I can't let such a breach happen again." Bob smiled in return, but remained resolute that he was going to "get to the bottom of this."

Carly peered into his mind and saw Bob's clear loyalty to Godric as well his desire to impress the king in the hope that he'd eventually be turned into a vampire himself.

"Don't be too hard on them, Bob," Carly cautioned the guard. "Remember that the only vampire around here stronger or cleverer than Eric is Godric."

"Of course," Bob agreed. "Well, let me announce you to Melissa. I don't know if the king is ready for visitors quite yet."

"Indeed he is." Godric's voice, the sweetly accented tenor that Carly had grown to admire as much as the vampire himself, echoed down the stairs and along the entry chamber. "The moment I felt my son, I awakened, eager to hear the news from New York."

"The Nazi is dead,"Eric reported immediately.

"Yes," Godric nodded slowly. "Melissa prepares a digest of the day's news for me that she leaves in my sitting room. I see that his demise was recorded as well. I would have preferred a trial and execution for his crimes, and I certainly am disappointed that the world knows how quickly we die in sunlight. But his death is a blessing."

"Did she have any other news for you, about his maker?" Eric held Godric's gaze steadily, and Carly wondered if they could communicate in words with one another. She didn't dare to intrude on their relationship.

Godric replied slowly. "Edgington is missing, I have heard. But I have also heard that his jewelry has been found beneath a tree in Arkansas."

Carly tuned into Godric immediately once she heard the location where they intercepted Russell and Talbot.

_Daughter, Jean-Jacques notified me about the jewelry and the fang excised from Edgington. But I need you to glamour Nakamura, so that he claims that he discovered them. He was doing business for me in Arkansas, but we must formulate a convincing tale—at least a tale that will convince Nan Flanagan and the Authority._

"A thief could have stolen his jewelry," Eric suggested.

"Not his signet ring. According to my recollections, Russell wore the same signet for two thousand years. Supposedly, he had the stone reset numerous times." Godric smiled at Carly faintly, but continued to speak to Eric, maintaining their fidelity to vampire protocols in front of his staff. "If the signet ring were separated from his finger, his finger must be separated from his body. The only thing to conclude is that Edgington is dead."

Carly concentrated on projecting a thought to Godric. _Do you want Nakamura to claim he witnessed Edgington's death?_

Godric looked down before answering—telepathically. _If he claims to have seen Edgington die, he could invite suspicion._

_What if,_ Carly responded, almost instantly, _he says he just saw a vampire collide with a bird, or small plane, and went to help him. Instead of falling to the ground, the vampire fell on a branch and the only thing that came down was the jewelry._

Godric nodded. "You must both need some refreshment after your rest. Please, let us retire to the dining room. I believe the Stackhouses will be eating their supper."

_Yes, Carly_, Godric added, _I believe the simplest answer will be the best. _

_You'll just need to explain how you recognized it as Edgington's ring_. Carly wondered how they could manage that one detail.

"I take it Jean-Jacques is well," Godric continued their conversation as they walked to the dining room.

"Yes, and he sends you all the best regards. He mourns his city needs him too much for a prolonged absence." Eric seemed to be speaking more for Carly's benefit than for Godric's.

"Indeed," Godric led them through the double doors as he agreed, "the long travel time makes a visit unlikely. But he is the best source of information among all the monarchs of North America. Were I to need to identify something small, such as a bracelet or a brooch, I would certainly have contacted him first. As he knows, of course."

So that was the plan. Carly was to glamour Nakamura so that he could tell a tale about being a "Good Samaritan" vampire who stopped by the side of the road after he'd seen a vampire clipped by a plane. The vampire tumbled from the sky down onto a branch to and dripped his jewelry onto the ground below. In order to identify the hapless vampire, Nakamura collected his effects and returned to his king last night, who called Jean-Jacques and—voila—the mystery was solved: Edgington was no more. His reported demise would align with Himmler's on-screen confession and all would be well in the world.

When they crossed into the dining room, Sookie rose suddenly and bounded toward the trio, kissing Godric on the cheek sweetly and embracing Carly with tremendous force.

_I'm so happy you're back, Carly. It's been so nice to be here—but I'm—I'm nervous..._

"It's good to see you too, Sookie," Carly croaked out aloud, trying to coax Sookie back to an audible conversation.

Sookie pushed Carly away, and even though she was still smiling, Carly could see that Sookie felt betrayed. "Yeah, I missed you, Carly." Letting go of Carly quickly, Sookie gave Eric a squeeze that caught him unprepared.

"Yes, Sookie, we have missed you as well," Eric said in a somewhat stilted voice.

_Sookie, why are you nervous?_

With the silent dialogue renewed, Sookie smiled. _I don't think Godric's going to let me go home._

_Nonsense, Sookie, he wouldn't keep you against your will._

_But Melissa said, if we go home, not when we go home._

Even a telepath could misunderstand, Carly concluded. "We haven't been gone long, but have you had some time to look around New Orleans."

"It's one helluva town," Jason chimed in through a mouth full of mashed potatoes. "I think I'm gonna love it here."

"Jason," Godric cautioned, "please, remember what we discussed about table etiquette."

Jason swallowed quickly and took a sip of water before pulling his elbows off the table. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry. I gotta remember to mind my manners better."

"Godric," Adele chuckled, "please know that it's not for want of my efforts that my grandson acts like he's eating a trough sometimes."

"I know, sweet Adele. Your efforts with him come through in his kindness and openness of spirit. I fear that this generation of young men sees table manners as effete and affected. I anticipate that only gentle reminders will be necessary on my part." Godric smiled and looked to Carly and Eric. "Jason has accepted my offer to be my liaison to the reconstruction efforts."

"That's great!" Carly was genuinely excited for Jason's improved prospects. "Of course, you know Godric, that construction foremen probably won't have table manners either."

"Then we start a revolution, one caveman at a time." Godric smiled at Eric. "My progeny civilized me, so I will share that gift with Jason."

"As long as you let him come home and mow his grandmother's lawn every once and a while, Godric," Adele laughed, "then I'm just pleased as punch for him."

"Adele, I shall tend to it myself if Jason is otherwise occupied. I doubt a lawn will suffer if cut at night."

_See, Sookie, you're going home._

_Gran's going home. He didn't say anything about me._

"We're keeping everyone, even Jason now, from their dinner. Why don't we sit down?" Carly prompted.

The Stackhouses and Melissa occupied only one end of the long dining table, so Godric, Eric, and Carly took the remaining seats. Godric sat beside Sookie, who seemed honored to be the focus of his attention and frightened by his intensity.

_Sookie, _Carly projected, _just ask him what you want to know._

_Do you think he'll be honest?_

Carly rolled her neck, which she felt tightening.

Eric noticed immediately and asked, "Is everything all right?"

"I'm fine," Carly lied, "it's just the travel."

"Do you need to," Eric paused just briefly enough to make it clear what he meant, "eat?"

"No," Carly answered and meant it. She had no craving for death, even though she'd been starving once she returned them to the east coast after Edgington's death. She focused again on Sookie: _Has he been dishonest, or deceitful to you yet?_

_No..._ Sookie trailed off into confusion, and Carly could tell that she was fighting with herself, that all of Sookie's insecurities were battling for power over her conscious mind. _Okay, I'll ask him_.

"Godric," Sookie piped up in a high pitched voice, almost like a little girl's. "When do you think me and Gran can go back to Bon Temps?"

Straightening himself up slightly, Godric said, "I suppose tonight will be appropriate, although I would prefer to accompany you. We have some things we need to attend to, however. If you would allow us, I suppose we could take care of them now."

"Oh," Sookie sounded relieved, although her voice also seemed to betray a vague disappointment. "Sure. If y'all weren't planning to eat anyway, then there's no reason you have to keep us company."

"Do you need my help, Godric?" Melissa asked.

"Yes, could you make arrangements for us to fly to Shreveport. Also," Godric praised, "I appreciate all you've done so far today. Your memorandum was most helpful, and I called the King of New York for further information."

Godric pushed himself away from the table gracefully and gestured to Eric and Carly to follow.

"Carly?" Sookie said her name plaintively. "Do you need to go too?"

"Yep," Carly smiled at her, but added through their personal channel, _I don't need to eat anymore, and there are some things I need to do for Godric. I'm guessing that we can go back to Shreveport now too, so we'll probably drive with you._

As they left the room, Carly checked into the minds of all four of the humans they left behind. Adele wondered why skinny girls like Carly starved themselves. Sookie wondered if all of the sweet nothings that Godric had whispered in her ear the last couple of days were just ploys to get her away from home, if she'd just been bait for these big, bad vampires that he needed to catch. Melissa thought that Godric seemed depressed again, although he'd been so cheerful the last few days with Sookie around. And Jason wondered why there wasn't a television in the dining room.

Godric took the lead as they trio walked toward Godric's office, but he didn't speak until the door was firmly shut.

"Carly," Godric began, "do you have a clear sense of the tale that Nakamura needs to tell the Authority?"

She nodded. "I think I do, but it would help to know what business he was doing for you."

"Yes, I suppose it would." Godric sat behind his desk and pulled out a document out of a drawer. "I asked him to work as a courier to the sheriff in the southern part of the state. I've known her for a few years, and I hoped she would investigate the disappearance of one of my vampires who was last seen in northern Louisiana, a William Compton by name." Godric smiled. "Perhaps you've heard of him."

"Clever bastard," Eric prodded his maker. "You're covering all your bases, aren't you."

"Yes. Since Compton has some connection to the Authority, I decided that I would show all due diligence in my care of my subjects, especially since our bond is public knowledge."

Carly began to put the picture together in her mind. She hadn't asked about Compton's fate, although she hoped that he was in the deepest, darkest, cruelest dungeon, submerged beneath the water line, waiting to be tortured into an inch of his existence. Her own brutality shocked her, and she shook her head violently. "Wow."

"Yes, Carly?"

"I just startled myself, Godric. I was just thinking that I hoped Compton was somewhere suffering terribly."

"Not as terribly as he shall," Godric pushed the document across the desk toward Carly. "But I need to demonstrate my magnamity as a ruler, especially when the Authority has an interest in my subjects."

"So when will Nakamura get here?" Eric asked, refocusing their attention on their agenda.

"I asked him to report as soon as he awakened." Godric checked his desk clock. "I also anticipate some communication from that tiresome Nan Flanagan before long."

Eric drew Edgington's jewelry, a signet ring and three other rings, a watch, and a pendant, as well as his fang from a pouch that he'd kept in his breast pocket, and placed them on Godric's desk. "So these are the artifacts that remain from Edgington."

Godric handed the fang back to Eric. "Such a thing ought not exist, so it should be kept from view. How did you excise it?"

Carly extended her arm so that Godric could see the bracelet she now wore. "It's a long story, but it got caught in this."

With a meaningful look at Eric, Godric said, "I recognize how ancient this piece is, Eric. Where did it come from?"

"Pam has been trying to recover artifacts that might be related to my family. She commisioned an antique dealer here in New Orleans, who discovered this."

"To whom did it belong?" Godric asked.

"My grandfather." Eric stroked Carly's hair. "It appears that my ancestry is more complex than I knew. After Edgington's death, we heard from my grandfather. My father came from a family of wolf-warriors." Eric paused and despair weighed heavily on his voice. "The wolves who killed my family were kin. Edgington recruited my uncle, who nursed a grudge against my father for living as a man."

Godric continued to follow the outlines of the bracelet, turning Carly's wrist over as he did. "So you have a connection to the wolves?"

"And this bracelet," Carly added, "allow some us to wield some kind of blood magic."

"To control any who have had Edgington's blood?" Godric leaned back and drew his hands together. "We will need such assistance, although I doubt you wish to rule Mississippi."

Eric nodded. "I have no desire. I wish only to serve you and to remain with Carly and Pam."

"And I wish that for you."

The three sat in silence for a time, before Godric made a call. The listened to the phone ring from the speaker before Jean-Jacques answered. "Bon soir, mon ami. To whom do I speak?"

"Godric, my friend."

"Yes," Jean-Jacques replied with clear enthusiasm in his voice. "I hoped to hear from you soon as compensation for the loss of your dear subjects."

"They stand before me, Jean-Jacques, and we are orchestrating a conspiracy to deceive the Authority."

"Tres bien, Godric," Jean-Jacques clapped his hands together loudly. "And how may I be complicit in such a worthy venture?"

"Can you attest to the fact that I called you last night to see your advice concerning some pieces of jewelry?"

"Indeed," Jean-Jacques agreed, "you called to discuss images you sent via your cellphone. The jewelry belonged to Russel Edgington, yes?"

"You are an excellent co-conspirator, Jean-Jacques."

Jean-Jacques's laugh was audible from the other line. "Charlemagne said as much, dear friend."

"Our only challenge will be altering the cellphone records," Eric suggested.

"Easy." Carly held her hand out for Godric's cellphone. "All you have to do is change your dates and times and the stamp will remain when you transfer the photo to a computer."

Godric altered his system settings and coordinated times with Jean-Jacques, before snapping a picture of the jewelry. "You should expect a photograph shortly, my friend."

"As I wait, may I ask where these pieces were found, since I know that Eric Northman and his companion were in New York City, so they certainly could not have been responsible. As I recall, they were at my home when Edgington called in a rage concerning his progeny's appearance on CNN." Jean-Jacques suggested he was willing to provide an alibi for Carly and Eric that the Authority would have difficulty destroying.

"My subject, Nakamura, discovered them on the ground shortly after he saw a vampire collide with a small plane." Godric offered a digest version of the story they would implant in Nakamura's memory. "He was on an errand for me in Arkansas."

"Ah, how the mighty fall to an ignominious end." Jean-Jacques snorted loudly, and Carly and Eric tried to repress their giggles unsuccesfully. "I always thought that Russell would die from something embarrassing. I always assumed that a little boy would stake him when he wasn't paying attention, but a private plane is mortifying enough."

"We believe it was a tree limb that did him in, actually."

"Ah, yes, Godric. Killed by a stray branch. The mighty fallen by a humble tree. Poetic justice that I plan to spread to any who will listen. Leticia should take notice."

Godric took notice. "You saw Leticia?"

"Yes," Eric affirmed, "at the art show."

"She would enjoy such a thing."Godric shook his head and pinched at the bridge of his nose, before looking aggressively toward Carly. "I hope she didn't cast her spell over you, Carly," Godric asked.

"She's magnetic, but I still have free will," Carly smiled, "If that's your question."

Eric looked away toward the door, and Carly felt a wave of guilt rippling from her vampire.

"I'm glad to hear that, Carly, since I lost Eric to her briefly."

From the other end of the phone, Jean-Jacques said, "We have all lost something or someone to Leticia, but I believe the new order lessens her power. Now that more of us are known to human beings, those such as she hold less allure."

"We can hope," Godric agreed. "Although charming, she has driven too many to madness and brutality to be tolerated lightly."

Jean-Jacques coughed lightly to indicate a change. "I see your photographs now, Godric."

"And can you verify their provenance?" Godric asked.

"Indeed. They all belonged to Russell Edgington, and I doubt he would part with them willingly. If they are beside a road, and a vampire drips from the branches above, we can only conclude that vampire was the King of Mississippi," Jean-Jacques concluded.

"Thank you, Jean-Jacques. You should expect to hear from the Authority tonight."

"And I will report that we spoke quite congenially last night about what Nakamura witnessed the night before." Carly was impressed at how easily and willingly Jean-Jacques participated in the conspiracy to obscure her and Eric's involvement in Russell's death.

"Indeed, my friend." Godric said, in closing, "Bon soir," and severed the connection. "So we wait for Nakamura's arrival. I instructed him that he was to appear as soon as possible after sundown."

Carly felt a wave of anxiety, and she couldn't tell whether it was hers, Eric's, or from another source. As she contemplated the knot that bound her stomach and turned it from one side to the other, she focused her attention on the waves of disconent that flooded her. After a few moments, Carly saw a flash of pink cross her field of vision and smelled strawberries. For whatever reason, she associated the combination of the scent and the color with Pamela.

"Eric," Carly said tentatively. "I think something is wrong with Pam."

"Why?"

She shook her head as a feeling of panic began to take hold of her. "I can't explain. Can you just call her and find out if she's okay?"

"If she were in some jeopardy, Carly, she would have called to me." Eric walked toward her and held out his hand. "Come, we'll all call her."

Eric dictated Pamela's cell-phone number to Godric, who placed the phone on speaker so that they could all hear.

"Yeah, who the hell is this?" Pam drawled sullenly.

Godric glowered at his son. "Your king, maker, and only friend, who has sensed some anxiety on your part, Pamela."

"Your majesty, Godric," Pamela paused. "I'm sorry. I didn't recognize the number."

Carly burst out, "Are you okay, Pam?"

"Just about," Pam offered, without any elaboration.

"Pamela," Eric demanded, "what is wrong?"

"We have some rough customers tonight. That's all. They're stinking up the place, if you catch my meaning." Pam's voice didn't betray any details, but Carly recognized what she meant immediately: wolves, probably wolves withdrawing from Russell's blood.

"Call Thalia, Pam, and get her over to Fangtasia immediately. We're awaiting an important visit and can't come to you right away. As soon as it's over, we will be there." Eric's voice remained calm, although Carly felt his anxiety mounting quickly.

"If you wouldn't mind, Eric," Pamela spoke slowly. "I'd prefer if you let Carly drive you over."

Pam needed them sooner, rather than later, but they still needed to make sure that Nakamura's story was firmly established in his mind. If the Authority suspected deceit, they would torture him, Carly was certain. Re-writing his memories was the only way to make sure that the story was believeable.

"We'll be there as soon as we can, Pam, and Carly will drive us there," Eric assured. They heard the connection disappear.

A moment later, they heard a tentative knock at the door. "Enter," Godric ordered.

Without any escort, Nakamura appeared at the door. "Your majesty, may I enter."

Nakamura spotted Carly and stumbled just slightly. "Sheriff Northman, Ms. Michael," he greeted. "It's a pleasure to see you both again. I anticipate your trip to New York was enjoyable."

"Very much so," Eric assured. "We acquired a number of pieces of art that the king will be proud to display."

Nakamura nodded and moved toward Godric. "How may I be of service, your majesty?"

"Please sit," Godric gestured toward the sofa, where Carly had glamoured Nakamura before. "I will be forthright with you, Nakamura, because I see no reason to be duplicitous. Russell Edgington is dead."

"Yes, sir, I realized that when I saw Himmler's interview from night before last." Nakamura looked to each of them in turn. "I only watched it before dawn this morning."

"You were on the road at that time, if I'm not mistaken," Godric suggested.

"Yes, northwest of the Louisiana border, in Arkansas," Nakamura reported

"Not far from the Mississippi border, I would anticipate." Godric continued, "In fact, wouldn't it have been quite easy for you to get to Jackson, as the crow flies."

Nakamura affirmed the judgment again with a nod. "I believe so. Am I suspected?"

"No," Godric replied quickly. "I promised to be frank, and I see no reason, Carly, why I shouldn't tell him the truth entirely, don't you think?"

Looking between Godric and Carly, Nakamura became visibly fearful and interjected. "Please, your majesty, do not give me a truth that will I will need to die to preserve. Ms. Michael is something different, and I fear her."

"As you should," Eric inserted.

"If you require something of me, your majesty, I will do it without hesitation." Nakamura moved from the sofa and kneeled. "I am your subject, unconditionally."

Godric uncovered Edgington's jewelry so that it was visible to Nakamura. "I need you, dear friend, to remember something that did not happen."

"Whatever you require of me, king, I will do." Nakamura's subjection distressed Carly, but she realized that his unconditional obedience was the greatest honor he could offer his king.

"Then turn toward Ms. Michael and look in her eyes."

Slowly, Nakamura turned toward Carly and looked at her face. He winced slightly before saying, "I know that you freed me, somehow, from the bondage I was under. Even though I fear you, I am grateful."

"This shouldn't hurt, Nakamura," Carly offered. "I just need you to remember things differently than they happened."

With a faint motion of his head, Nakamura consented to the alteration of his memories.

"I need you to think of your drive back from Arkansas. Think of where you were on the road about three thirty in the morning. Were you still in Arkansas at that point?" Carly asked.

"Yes."

Carly grasped his hand and tuned into his thoughts as he remembered the desolate road and his narrow field of vision, constrained as it was by his headlights. On each side of the road, tall pine trees rose, effectively making the road into a pine forested tunnel. She accompanied him as he remembered and jumped as he recalled a helicopter that crossed his field of vision.

"Perfect!" she cried out.

"What?" Nakamura startled. "What did you see?"

"I need you to think back to seeing the helicopter, Nakamura. Take me on the drive again." Carly focused on his memory and when he spotted the helicopter crossing the top of his field of vision, she took over the imagery in his mind. Instead of simply seeing a helicopter cross the top of his field of vision, Nakamura saw an object traveling at high speed clip the helicopter and fall into the trees beside the road. Carly directed him to the side of the road, high-jacking his recollections of the car interior. Within his consciousness, Carly walked back to a stand of trees and visualized a slow drip from the tree and the sharp plink of metal against stone. Nakamura (driven by Carly) picked up Edgington's jewelry and looked up into the tree. With his vampire vision, he saw clothing hanging from the top of the tree, but little more. Without the ability to fly, Nakamura, led by Carly's consciousness, walked back to his car, pocketing the jewelry without further consideration.

Carly released her hold on Nakamura's memory and led him back through his drive to a safehouse, where he arrived shortly before dawn. She directed him to his awakening and his drive back to New Orleans, where he reported to Godric.

Leaving most of the memory untouched, Carly focused her attention solely on the conclusion of the meeting, prompting Nakamura to remember drawing the jewelry from his pocket.

Nakamura, within Carly's confabulated memory, reported what he had seen to his king. "A vampire collided with a helicopter, and I found these pieces beneath a tree. I conclude he was staked upon one of the high branches."

Godric agreed within the fantasy as it became Nakamura's reality. "That seems a prudent conclusion. I recognize these pieces, but must seek guidance from another monarch, perhaps Jean-Jacques of New York can assist me."

Carly allowed Nakamura to regain the stream of his authentic memory and released him from his internal rewriting, but not so entirely that he was free of her. "Nakamura, you know that no one has attempted to alter your recollections whatsoever?"

"No, no one has attempted such a thing."

Carly released him and said, "Thank you for sharing your story with us."

"I am happy to share my story with you and and Sheriff Northman, Ms. Michael," Nakamura answered slowly.

Godric sought his subject's attention and asked, "You said that you fear Ms. Michael. Could you say why?"

Nakamura looked down sheepishly. "I know it is foolish for me to fear you, but you are unlike any other human I have encountered."

Speaking sternly, Godric said, "And you will keep that fear to yourself at all costs, Nakamura."

"Hai, yes, my king." Nakamura stood and bowed.

"You are dismissed, Nakamura." Godric grabbed his cellphone as his subject left his office. "I am texting Melissa with my intent to accompany you to Fangtasia, if it is possible, Carly. Do you think you might be able to bring both of us with you?"

"It shouldn't be a problem, Godric, but I might need need to recharge after I get there." Carly turned to Eric. "You won't need me if there's an emergency with the wolves, will you?"

"No, Carly." Eric turned to Godric. "We need to hold onto her tightly, Godric. I warn you it can be a disorienting mode of travel."

Eric and Godric curled around the valkyrie as she imagined Eric's office at Fangtasia and they became vapor. From Eric and Godric's perspective, they became disembodied consciousnesses clinging tightly to a firey beacon that zoomed through a portal and came back to solidity before Eric's door.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

A/N Thank you for your supportive reviews and follows. I appreciate it all. I'm trying something a little different with the narration in this one as opposed to the first two novels, so I hope it works. As before, no copyright infringement is intended.

The three materialized in Eric's office between the desk and the sofa. From Godric's perspective, the room continued to spin for nearly a minute as he regained his balance and his vertical orientation. It took another minute for his feet to regain sensation, and yet another before he had the confidence to move them.

Once Eric was certain that his maker knew up from down, he released Godric from the tight embrace in which he'd kept the three of them together through the maelstrom. Although Carly had brought them through the vortex, Eric's strength and resolve held them together. "Are you all right, my king?" Eric's voice was gentle, even though it betrayed a little anger, mostly directed at himself. He recriminated himself that Godric wasn't sufficiently prepared for the trial of that first journey.

"I will recover, my son," Godric replied, foregrounding their familial relationship over their political one. "How many times have you done this?"

"Perhaps five," Eric answered as he tried to remember. "But the first was very disorienting."

"I would like to save that method of transport only for emergencies," Godric said looking to Carly for acknowledgment.

"That's fine." Carly nodded and then wrapped her arms around herself. "That took a little bit out of me as well. My stomach hurts now." While Carly described the constricting and twisting within her as pain to Godric, she recognized it as hunger, a deep, clawing hunger that demanded the energy left behind as sentient beings died. In the past, she'd found this energy lingering around the living, in vacant lots by the side of the road where buildings had burned down, and in nursing home wards. She found herself licking her lips unconsciously as she imagined that at least one, if not more, of the malcontented fangbangers out in the club might have brought along the energy that lingered from their dear old mother or father. "Can we find out what Pam needs? I'm guessing she's out in the club."

Eric opened the door in answer to Carly's suggestion, but quickly turned to Godric. "Do you smell that?" Eric growled. "Edgington."

"No, Eric, but if you say that you do, I believe you." Godric looked to Carly before asking, "Have you acquired such an acute sense of smell?"

She shook her head no, still rubbing her stomach. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to need to feed."

Eric calmed slightly and stroked her head. "I know it isn't your preferred food, but I anticipate you'll feed from a dead werewolf soon enough." He paused, "I needn't remind either of you how dangerous these creatures are, especially if they're hungering for our blood."

Neither Godric, who had pulled a blood-lusting were-bitch off Eric once long ago in Germany, nor Carly, who faced off with two werewolves in the alley behind Fangtasia, needed to be reminded. But both of them remembered that they were in radically different circumstances. The thrum of loud guitar riffs and the high hum of the amplifier, as well as the chattering minds (and sweating bodies and beating hearts) of a hundred vampire groupies, suggested anything other than the privacy they'd had in those previous circumstances. While vampires were known, werewolves still lurked in the shadows, and their forced "outing" would do nothing for the vampire case for equality and tolerance.

When the three entered the club proper, they quickly spotted the five werewolves distributed around the crowd. Two women sat at the bar, tapping their hands laconically, missing the beat of the music, with their eyes trained on the throats of two younger vampires that danced in front of Pam. Carly recognized them as two of Edgar's cast off progeny, who had been made only for the purposes of harvesting "V." Once freed from Edgar's hold by that vampire's death, most of them had made their home in Louisiana. Eric—and Pam by extension—were their liberators and they wanted to be near their heroes.

These two were sweet, Carly thought, Emmie and Charlie. The two women had been turned when they were barely out of high school and had turned up in Miami Beach. With Esther's help, both had found jobs working at all night dry cleaners and kept their baser instincts under control with their preoccupation with one another. They came into Fangtasia on their nights off. The couple had become two of Pam's greatest fans, and they wanted to be "just like her" when they grew up.

But like all of Edgar's progeny, they weren't particularly "good" vampires. They had little sense of or skills for self-preservation, didn't know how to glamour—although Pam was trying to teach them when no one might see her being kind—and didn't know much about the complexities of the supernatural world. In other words, they were the perfect prey for two were-bitches who wanted to capture vampires to milk to feed their drug habit.

The other three werewolves were dancing with far-gone human women. All of them looked, as far as Carly could tell, as if they'd been drugged. When she paused to enter their minds, she found nothing so much as a test pattern like the one you might find on late-night television long ago. They were only conscious in the sense that they retained some voluntary control of their limbs and their bowels.

Carly felt another twist of her stomach and felt herself weakening. Scanning the crowd, she spotted a faint shudder of energy rising from a young man on the other side of the bar. Before she transported herself there involuntarily, she rushed through the pack of dancers and grasped his hand. Startled, the young man looked up and asked, "Who are you?"

"Just a friend. You looked sad." As the energy coursed into her, she knew that he was, in fact, grieving the death of a close friend who'd died that morning. The two were in a car accident together the night before, but his friend, who had been laying across the back seat, wasn't restrained. After refusing medical care, the friend—John, Carly sensed from the energy pumping through her and becoming transformed into the energy that powered the universe—returned with Andy to his apartment. They'd sat on the couch, watching movies and drinking beer, toasting their good luck. When Andy woke up beside his friend this morning, John was dead. John's aorta had been torn slightly in the accident and he bled into his belly slowly overnight without realizing he was even dying.

"I am." Andy wiped away a tear. "My best friend's dead, and it's my fault."

Although Carly wanted to return her attention to the werewolves, she knew that Andy needed her affirmation. "Why do you think it's your fault?"

"I should have made him go to the hospital after the accident."

Carly caressed John's cheek softly and smiled, "You can only second guess your own decisions, not someone else's. Did you encourage him to go to the hospital?"

"Yeah! He wasn't wearing a seat belt. I told him that something could be wrong inside, but he didn't listen." Andy paused for a moment and added, "But he never listened, ever, to anybody."

"Then you did what he let you and anything else is his responsibility." Carly smiled sweetly at the young man. "Now go home—in a cab—and get some rest."

"Yeah. I should." Andy smiled back at her. "I didn't know vampires could be psychic."

There it was again. Another person mistook her for a vampire. Instead of protesting, Carly just rolled with the misidentification, realizing it would be her only path, eventually. "Vampires are just like everybody else, but only at night."

Andy chuckled. "And you're funny too."

With a final compassionate shove, Carly sent Andy toward the front door. If she could get some of the people out of the club, Eric and Godric could probably glamour anyone who witnessed the violence into remembering something more ordinary—a simple bar-room brawl rather than a vampires vs. werewolves rumble.

Once Andy was out of the way, and Carly felt re-energized, she turned back to the matter at hand. While Carly had been preoccupied, Eric moved into his usual position on the stage, with Godric on one side and Pam on the other.

With her strength was restored, Carly mustered up the focus to send a message to all three of her friends on the dais about the werewolves. _The wolves at the bar have Charlie and Emmie in their sights. And the girls the others are dancing with are nearly unconscious. _

Eric gestured to Carly that she should join the trio of vampires on the stage. When she reached the footlights, Eric pulled her up and gathered her into his lap. He whispered, "I anticipate they plan on some sort of orgiastic scene. Some wolves like to rape victims they then consume."

Carly nearly lost her cool and, had her stomach been full, she would have lost its contents. Leaning her head against Eric's shoulder for reassurance, she peered into the male wolves' minds. Their thoughts jumped back and forth from image to image, so she had difficulty focusing on them. Finally, she was able to slow down a stream of their thoughts so that she could process them. Eric was right, unfortunately. One, the tallest and apparent ringleader, had made such behavior a habit. All five were going through horrific withdrawal, since Russell provided them with substantial access to his own blood and to that of other vampires he chained in the basement of his estate. With Russell gone, they fled the compound once they spotted vehicles from the Authority. She decided that Eric and Godric needed to know this information.

_The Authority has raided Russell's plantation. These five fled and decided to visit us._

Eric stroked Carly's arm as he watched the crowd and listened to her message. _Then it is time for us to put my grandfather's advice to the test, my love._

With a faint movement of his head, Eric directed Pam down from the stage and into the crowd below. Charlie and Emmie rushed toward her, and Pam whispered something to them both. Carly found no need to eavesdrop, because she was too filled with fear at what her beloved vampire had said. He was going to summon magic, going to try to control these wolves who'd consumed Russell Edgington's blood. Eric planned to tap into a long-unknown part of himself, to exploit the shape-shifting nature that he inherited from his father and grandfather, and he was going to do it in a fairly busy nightclub in downtown Shreveport, Louisiana.

"Be calm, my beloved Carly," Eric whispered to her as he wrapped his hands around the bracelet on her wrist. "We drew the last of Edgington's blood and now we will master his beasts."

"You will," Carly answered. "I think I just get to wear it the bracelet."

"No." Eric shook his head. "I can feel it. It's your magic that makes this happen." Eric pushed her from his lap and dropped down to the floor of the club, grasping her by the waist and swinging her around as if she were Ginger Rogers and he Fred Astaire.

Without any warning, Carly's vision shifted along with her consciousness. She looked at the world through a parabolic lens, with vision so perfect she could see the grain of the leather jackets the werewolves wore, the grime that encircled their beefy necks, and the erratic pulses throbbing in the drugged women's necks. She also felt a change in her consciousness, a fracturing, much like that she experienced in her dreams, a realization that she observed her own mind and that of another from the outside. As some writer had once written—she'd forgotten who—she finally believed in her consciousness because she observed it dispassionately, as she would at the moment of her own extinction.

But she didn't feel as if she were going to die. In fact, she felt so full of life, and love, and rage, and fear, that she felt as if she were a being greater than she'd ever imagined one could be. Carly struggled to feel her body, to pay attention to the temperature of the club, or the smell of the liquor, and that's when the true realization hit. She could feel a breeze from the fan that kept the bar's air from becoming stagnant, but she felt it on her own neck and along Eric's arm. Eric's body and her body were one, as if she'd fused into him, aware of her own consciousness and a new one that had arisen from their union.

_Do you feel this, Eric?_

_Yes, but we are so much more now than we were alone._

Carly felt a rush of excitement, a thrill of power, before a crushing sense of responsibility suppressed the feeling of onmipotence—a conscience weightier than any she'd ever felt.

And a will so strong, so unrelenting, she could see its tendrils as they curved out of the body they'd become. Like serpents, they snaked through the crowd and curled around the bodies of the werewolves.

The three men continued to dance, but their motions became jerky, spasmodic, as the tentacles of the combined will of vampire and valkyrie, of the Wolfmaster, encircled them. One of them laughed at the tallest, who seemed to struggle slightly more than his buddies, and yelled, "No more beer for you, Lister."

In unison, the werewolves all pushed the drugged women aside, and Pam, Charlie, and Emmie rushed in to catch them before they hit the floor. The three victims could no longer stand up straight, and Pam directed her helpers toward the back office.

_Pam, call the rescue squad. Those girls need help. _

Pam looked over her shoulder and nodded to Carly, who caught the gesture in the periphery of her wide-angle vision.

"What the fuck, man?" The shortest of the three werewolves, a blond who wore a short-sleeved plaid shirt. "Did you fucking dose us too, Lister?"

"No, man, I just gave it to the girls, and it's just a knock-out pill, not strychnine." Lister nearly convulsed as he began walking toward the back hall, the tentacle around him engorging itself with rage, as Carly remembered their intentions toward the women.

_Calm yourself, Carly. We cannot throttle them in front of this many witnesses._

The python of will encircling Lister loosened its grip. As if one creature, the two turned toward the basement door and propelled the werewolves toward it. At the edge of their vision, Eric spotted the two women backing away toward the door, visibly anxious to get out without drawing attention to themselves. Angry vines shot forth from Carly and Eric and wrapped around the were-bitches' wrists and dragged them alongside their companions.

When all five were in sight of the basement door, another tendril of will, luminous in Carly's vision, and with as much of a sense of touch as Carly's own fingers, wrapped around the latch to the basement, unlocking it and pulling it open for the crowd to proceed down the stairs.

Godric stepped calmly from the stage as if nothing were happening, as if seven people were simply moving toward the bar for a refill. The music continued to play and the fangbangers continued to dance, although a few took notice of the procession of spasming and convulsing men, now joined by the two women at the bar. Although a couple fangbangers pointed and laughed, no one intervened, and no one linked their transit to the vampire and his companion who followed slowly and deliberately as graceful as a many limbed gazelle.

Carly watched the five werewolves disappear into the back hallway and followed their minds as they proceeded down the stairs, feeling her hold—Eric's hold—the Wolfmaster's hold tightening around them as they reached the basement floor. Godric reached the basement door first, but gestured gallantly for Eric and Carly to precede him.

Eric's mind reached out to Godric, and Carly could feel the sensation of the two communicating, like a hum of particles vibrating at the same frequency. With a rush brought on by the insight, Carly realized that the blood was the same blood, part of the same "colony" or "hive" as she'd seen that night in the vortex as she'd committed herself to the mystery. That same blood traveled through her body, and she called to it, called it to awareness of Godric and Eric and Pam.

_...happening to us?_

_Eric, this is magic like none I have seen before...no ritual, no rite, no spell...just the touch of the two of you. Before you had called forth the light to protect you, but this is something else entirely, as if a third being has come into existence._

_It has, Godric._

Godric looked to Carly suddenly, and she could feel Eric straining to turn his head to her, but the "third term" wouldn't allow it. Their vision stayed locked on Godric.

_Unlike anything I have seen, my son. But these recent days have shown me there is much still to learn of our universe._

_Indeed, my king._

Their bodies moved in unison down the stairs and took in the sight of the werewolves, tied in the bonds of their will. Glowing chains, apparently invisible to the werewolves, or to Godric, held them fast as they knelt on the floor.

Godric spoke to the wolves. "Why have you beasts come to my state? I will not tolerate werewolves hunting vampires in my territory."

"Please, man, I don't know what you think we've done." Lister blubbered, now genuinely fearing for his safety. "We just came out here to party. Our boss hasn't been around in a couple of days, and the heat came down on us, so we headed here."

Godric scoffed and spat, "Liar." Like a lion, Godric circled the wolves, silently contemplating what needed to happen, what the wolves presence signified. "Why did you choose this bar?"

"We heard it was a great place to have a good time," Lister answered as a tentacle fattened and began to choke him.

"But your idea of having a good time includes draining vampires of their blood and kidnapping young women to rape and eat." Godric's betrayed no judgment. He was simply describing facts. "Five werewolves, stinking of Russell Edgington's blood, come into my state, into my progeny's bar, threaten the safety of my subjects and the humans I have chosen to protect, and I will not let such behavior stand without demanding satisfaction."

Lister began to strangle. In her consciousness, Carly begged for it to stop, but she seemed to have no effect on the tentacles as they smothered the man.

_Eric, please, stop. Why is he dying?_

_Because he deserves to die, Carly. I see all that he has done and all he wished to do. Don't you?_

In another flash, Carly saw him raping a woman—not one of those he targeted in the bar—and watched as he transformed into a wolf, who violated her again, tearing at her neck with his jaws.

With a final croak, Lister collapsed and the tentacles withdrew from his dead body.

His female companions began to scream. "How the fuck are you doing that, man? Please, please..." they cried and begged for their lives. "Lister's a twisted fuck. We just wanted some V, please, don't kill us...

The remaining four rose from their kneeling position and slammed against a back wall. Manacles hung from the ceiling and additional tendrils clasped them shut around their hands.

"That will not hold werewolves, Eric. You must immobilize them completely." Godric looked at the composite being who detained the captives.

Carly felt vines extend from their backs and run along the cold cement floor to a chest. Like skilled fingers, the tendrils opened a combination lock and extracted four silver spikes from the truck, and then drove the spikes at high speed into the werewolves' hips, between the ball and the joint.

Now no threat to them, the werewolves slumped against the wall, twisting in agony, as Eric released Carly's wrist and the charm that unified them evaporated. Once again, they were separate beings. While relieved, Carly also felt an intense longing to return to their previous state.

Without hesitation, Eric and Carly embraced. The tall vampire touched Carly's face gently, tracing along her brow, then her cheekbone, and finally across her chin. "It's good to see you."

Carly sobbed. "Good to see you too, Eric."

"I wasn't expecting something like that." His voice betrayed guilt, but also awe.

"No one could expect that."

As they parted, Carly saw the dead werewolf on the floor, and reached out toward him to harvest the energy. Unlike those times before when she'd consumed werewolf energy, Carly felt as if the field parted before it entered her. A light, electrical tingling, just like that she felt when harvesting the energy left behind by humans, caressed up her arm and warmed her, while another, oily, viscous field that glowed red remained and lingered around the body.

And like any good scientist, she decided it prudent to poke it with a stick and see what happened.

Carly moved toward the body and stirred the energy with her hand. "I wonder if this is what stinks so badly."

"What?" Eric asked.

"This oily stuff."

Eric and Godric traded glances as the werewolves attached to the wall continued to moan. Eric reminded her, "We can't see the same things, Carly."

She laughed. "That's right." She smiled at Eric and said, "Although you got a taste of how things are for me when we were..."

"Yes," Eric cut her off before she sought a word to describe their state. "I don't envy you what you have to see."

"You know," she continued to muse, "when I had to collect all that..."

"Carly," Godric interrupted her. "I think it might be prudent for you to hold back your observations right now. We still have not decided what is to be done with our captives."

"Oh, yeah." Carly drew up the remaining energy from the werewolf and turned to gauge Eric's reaction. When his nose twitched, she had her confirmation. "I'm going to go get rid of this before it gets to be too stinky."

Carly moved to the landing of the stairway, where the wolves couldn't see her, and transported herself away from Fangtasia.

When she came apart, turned into vapor, or teleported—whatever it was she did—she had no specific destination in mind, so she circled the outside of the bar, like a thin cloud of smoke that followed the line of fangbangers as they gathered along the exterior wall of the club.

In this state where she had no clear "mind," just sensation, just a sense of desire, she lingered, until realizing that it probably would be best to return a werewolf's energy to the right source. In the past, she'd sent the energy into an animal, which seemed to work without problem. The rabbits and rodents survived their initial "transfusion" and hopped away alive. But now she wondered where this energy really belonged, whether it was from this world or another.

Carly condensed into herself again beside the cauldron. Somewhere in her travels she'd mislaid her clothing, so she stood beside her ancestors naked, catching a glimpse of herself and her even longer hair in the water that trailed down the walls of the cave.

"Hope this isn't a bad time." Carly announced herself when she saw the crones jump slightly at her appearance.

"Time," the scaliest one laughed, "can be bent, but not broken. The only bad time is that which has broken."

"I hope I haven't done that." Carly smiled at all of them and peered into the cauldron.

"No, child, you have not, but you play dangerous games with your vampire." The man stirring the cauldron beat on its surface after speaking.

"So is the bracelet dangerous?" Carly grasped her wrist and took comfort that it too was bare. "I still don't really understand what's going on with it."

"Blood magic," they all repeated, over and over, until she interrupted them.

"Yes," Carly raised her voice. "Yes, I get that. Is it dangerous to us?"

"The danger will be for those who stand against it." The same echoing voices offered the cryptic answer.

"It? The bracelet made us into something else, didn't it. I don't know if we were really in control."

"Two minds are never alike when they make a third." Another woman spoke philosophically as she ran her hand along the wall. "The memories of two, and the visions of two, when joined, make something new, with a will of its own."

Carly shrugged. "Tell me something I don't know."

"What did you come for, child?" Freawaru, the crone she recognized as her grandmother, asked.

"Two things, if you'll answer."

"We will always answer, but you may not understand," the valkyrie said.

"First, the energy from werewolves, it seems different, oily, soapy, and it stinks to Eric. Is it different, the same way that the Fairy energy is different?"

"Yes," they answered and repeated.

Carly waited for elaboration and received none. "Okay, I'll skip to the second question. A being, not one of you—at least I don't think it's one of you—visited me in a dream."

"Valkyries do not dream, dreams are lies. You never truly dreamt, my child."

Frustrated, Carly started again. "When I lost consciousness after getting the bracelet, I met a man—Eric thinks its Odin because he says he's the lord of his own realm and wears an eye-patch—"

"There are many names," the man stirring the cauldron spoke again.

"He seems to have something to do with the wolves." Carly's frustration grew even greater and her hands began to glow. "What do I need to do with the werewolf energy? Does it belong on earth, or should I put it somewhere else?"

"Burn it, bury it in a creature, send it to him, send it to the realm of the shapeshifters," Freawaru shook her hand toward the cauldron. "It's dense with life, but there is little of it. Their breed dies, twists, distorts. Some creatures die, others live. It's the balance that must endure."

"Okay," Carly grew excited and flames started to grow from her hands, "so he wants this energy for himself? Is that what he wants from me?"

The ancestors laughed, "No, he just wants to play."

With the valkyrie equivalent of a tantrum—she may have stomped her foot but she thought it more likely (in retrospect) that she burst into flames and vaporized—Carly returned to Fangtasia's basement, to the same spot on the stairs from which departed. To her relief, she found herself back in her clothes with the bracelet encircling her wrist.

During her absence, Eric and Godric had interrogated the remaining four werewolves, demanding more information about their departure from Russell's compound, about the total number of his werewolf dependents, and the Authority's raid on the plantation. As Carly walked down the remaining stairs, she heard one of the women blubbering in a confessional voice.

"...and when Cooter didn't come back, we knew something happened. But Russell and his bitch disappeared so soon after that, we didn't know what was going on."

Godric demanded, "And how many from your pack remain in Mississippi, Meg?"

"I don't know," she wept. "There were about sixty of us total. Probably about forty-five." The two vampires must have learned their names during her absence.

"Did all the wolves in the state have his blood?" Eric's voice scraped against the lower edge of its range.

One of the men answered. "No, he could never bring the Long Tooth Pack under his control. We took some of their bitches, but there are still about two dozen of them across the northern part of the state."

"That's good to hear, Jake. I know a few of them," Eric informed Godric. "I hold a marker for the former pack leader. I would be disappointed to hear that I'd helped one of Russell's dogs."

Godric glowered at his progeny before censuring him. "Loan sharking? Gambling? I will not tolerate vampires conducting illegal enterprises in my state. It ends."

Stiffening in defiance, Eric offered a justification. "The man is one of the only werewolves I know involved in a reputable business, a construction company that he and his son would lose without my assistance. Two dominant male werewolves—who can do my bidding in the daytime—were valuable to me. If another 'loan-shark', as you disreputably put it, had provided the money, Jackson Herveaux would be dead now. Instead, they owe me a favor in addition to the money—for ending the gambling. Unfortunately, I hear he's taken to drink instead."

"This is not usual practice, then?" Godric demanded.

"No." Eric took one step toward his maker and looked down at him. "You are my king and my maker, and I will follow every edict, order, and command you issue, but you should know the importance of my reputation. I am not some common criminal."

The two of them continued to stare at each other until Carly stomped loudly down the final steps into the basement. She cleared her throat quietly and began walking toward the two vampires without peering into their minds.

"You do not need to be so circumspect, Carly," Godric assured her. "We have come to terms after a brief misunderstanding."

"Indeed," Eric agreed. "Now, we need to assess the threat from these pathetic addicts."

The smallest of the men trembled and said, "We got no beef with you man. We made a mistake, please, just let us go."

"I fear that is not an option," Godric replied. "The only question, now, is the length of your captivity. You have no employment, no network outside your pack to turn to, and you are addicted to vampire blood. Until such time as we can be sure you pose no threat to vampires—or humans—you must be detained. As soon as I can arrange appropriate accommodations, you will remain here."

"Pam will be ecstatic," Eric said flatly.

Godric shook his head and began walking toward the stairs. "No, you will remain here with your bonded and your progeny and resume your duties as sheriff. If more wolves leave Jackson, they could come through Shreveport." Godric turned his gaze to Carly. "May I offer Sookie your regrets, Carly?"

"Sure. Thanks. I'm glad not to make the trip again tonight." Carly observed how coolly Eric and Godric observed each other, the emotional distance between them, and couldn't resist Godric's thoughts any longer.

_...an asset to the regime...but what risk to him? My connection to him dampened so profoundly, it was as if he were on the other side of the planet. _Images flashed through Godric's mind so rapidly, Carly felt herself stumble with the force of them. Eric rising his first night. Eric feeding languidly on a naked woman. Eric entwined with Carly, encircled by their protective light. All of the images were suffused with a love, so erotic, but as unconditional child for their parent, that Carly finally let out a small gasp.

With a faint smile, Godric tilted his head. "Carly, you have nothing to fear from me. I do worry for my progeny and for you, but we shall discuss that more when we have privacy."

In a flash, Godric left the basement, and Carly and Eric were left behind with the werewolves, who continued to groan quietly.

"What are you going to do with them?" Carly asked. "You're going to keep them here?"

"Not alone." Eric walked back to the chest and took out a pair of leather gloves before grasping a pair of shears.

Seeing the glint of silver blades, Meg started panting. The other woman seemed catatonic. "What are you going to do? Please, no. Isn't the spike enough? We can't shift."

"Shut up."

Carly found Eric's calm disconcerting. In a single movement, Eric sliced her jeans up the side, gently lifted the fabric off the silver spike embedded in her leg, and then sliced down the other side.

He proceeded to the other woman and repeated the procedure. All had begun to shiver, but Jake and the other male werewolf began to pull against their bonds. "What the fuck are you gonna do, vampire?"

Eric took one step further forward, crowding the nameless werewolf against the wall and staring into his face. "Do you think I should maim you?" He snipped the shears next to the werewolf's ear. "If you were in my position, with silver-plated shears in your hand, would you torture me? Perhaps cut off my ear." Eric snipped the shears again. "Or, perhaps," Eric lowered his hand to crotch-height. Another snipping sound accompanied Eric's threatening voice as he asked, "Or would you castrate me?"

Jake stopped pulling against the manacles, but started to shake frantically. "No, man, no. I wouldn't do that."

"But you'd drink my blood if you could, wouldn't you?"

The nameless male werewolf spoke. "No. Not anymore. I'm never touching another vampire, or a vampire's blood again."

"Perhaps," Eric turned toward Carly before cutting away the final pair of jeans, "I should have just let them soil their clothes." He returned his attention to the werewolves. "My associate, Thalia, will look after you, ensuring you don't starve or die of dehydration. I'm certain she will want to hose you down before approaching. She has a sensitive nose."

"She's agreed?" Carly asked.

Eric nodded. "You were gone much longer than I expected, Carly, so we made a great deal of progress during your absence."

His smile suggested tremendous mischief, so Carly couldn't help but smile in response. "Really?"

"Oh, yes." Eric held out his hand to her. "I suggest we discuss it in my office. But let me turn up the heat for them. It would do no one any good for them to die of hypothermia."

After Eric turned on a corner heater, the two of them walked upstairs and back to the office. Once inside, Eric immediately found the bathroom, where he washed his hands and forearms. Carly sat down gently on the sofa and closed her eyes.

"Seeking sleep, my love?" Eric's voice resonated from the bathroom back into the office.

"According to the crones in the cave, valkyries don't sleep, or dream." She stood and placed her hand on Eric's back. "Can I wash my face?"

They switched spots, and Eric massaged Carly's shoulders while she washed her face and splashed it with cool water. As she dried her face, Eric wrapped his arms around her waist and then drew her back to the sofa to sit on his lap.

As Eric caressed her hair and throat, Carly sighed against his neck. "Where do we even start?"

"Perhaps with what we can explain?"

Kissing along his jaw, Carly rose so that she could look him in the eye. She shifted her leg to straddle him. "And what is that?"

"The werewolves..."

"They lost their owner and went on the prowl?"

"It appears so," Eric answered. "In addition, they believe that we five vampires detained them in the basement and that I killed the ring-leader after he attacked me."

Relieved that the werewolves would have no memory of being held captive by an invisible force, Carly began to grow anxious.

"That leaves us, my love," Eric continued, "with what we cannot explain."

"Yes," Carly agreed, kissing him softly on the forehead. "I went to the-" Carly paused. She had no idea how to explain her visions to him. "I wish I could show them to you, or share them with you somehow."

"You traveled to your ancestors?" Eric winced. "You went there awake? I thought you went there in your dreams.

Carly chuckled softly. "They said valkyries don't dream—that I'd never dreamt—so perhaps I've always traveled to them, somehow. I don't know."

"What did they say?"

Carly breathed deeply before answering. "I don't know how to explain what they said. Supposedly, when we joined, we became something else, something with a mind and a will of its own."

He nodded in agreement. "Yes, I felt that way—felt—and saw—its will reaching out and grasping them, smothering Lister, driving the spikes into them."

"But did you intend to do that?"

Eric shook his head, brushing up against her cheek with his lips softly. "No, but the only way to keep a creature like that from shifting into its animal form is to spike it with silver. You'll notice, once you learn to recognize them, that shifters never wear earrings. They can't change their form around the jewelry."

"Good to know."

With kisses as gentle as a child's, Eric began to kiss along her jaw, lingering just beneath her ear, then licking along the muscles of her neck. "I always wish I could be so close to you, although I prefer to be able to touch you."

"Me too," Carly agreed then took his head between her hands. "And I like seeing you."

The two kissed each other hungrily, nipping their lips gently, slowly escalating in intensity. After a few minutes, Carly broke away from Eric and looked longingly at him. "They told me something else."

"Is it worth interruption?" Eric asked, kissing her again more forcefully.

Carly didn't resist, but instead started moving against him, rubbing her breasts against his chest until he lifted off her shirt and cast aside her bra. In one swift movement, he reversed their positions, pinning her against the sofa and pulling at her remaining clothing. He rose back up to regard her nakedness and stripped himself. She started to giggle at the theatrics of his motions.

"So you laugh at me, little valkyrie?"

"No," Carly responded. "You're magnificent, you know that?"

Eric posed cheekily and then lay down on top of her, pressing her breath out of her. "Yes, of course, but you laughed. Perhaps I should make you laugh a little harder?"

With that, he began tickling her, using all of his speed to set her body on fire. She squirmed to get away, but to no avail, so she started to scream, "Eric! Please, stop!"

"Why should I when the squirming is so arousing?" He pinned her hands above her head, grasping the bracelet firmly. "Perhaps if we face each other, it will be different." At the same time, he plunged into her, bringing out another scream.

He shifted his hands, so that only one held her wrists tightly, and then pulled her knee high with the other so that they rubbed against each other, so hard, and so deep inside her it felt he could crawl inside.

Carly's arousal from the tickling and the intensity of his penetration brought her to a swift, fiery orgasm that shortened her spine and threw her head back. Tears ran down her cheeks with its ferocity.

Lifting her up to pin her against the back of the sofa, Eric brought his hand to her throat, the other still holding tight to the bracelet. Carly couldn't focus on anything, she was so swamped with sensation, as if his one free hand moved so quickly from her throat to her breast to her hip that a fire would start along its path. Her eyes closed just as she heard Eric's fangs reveal themselves.

"I can't wait, beloved," Eric whispered before biting into her neck.

And with that, she felt the two of them enveloped with fire, felt the whole of their bodies as one body, enjoyed the tightening, pumping sensation as he released his own orgasm into her, as his blood filled her as she bit his arm and drank. Every inch of skin that pressed together, that pressed against the smooth leather of the sofa, or felt the cool breeze from the air conditioning vent, vibrated through her mind in one electric ecstasy where they remained.

When Pam's "What the fuck?" finally interrupted them, and the well-coiffed vampire was flung against the back wall of the office, it took a few moments for their minds to sort themselves into Carly and Eric, they'd grown so accustomed to what they'd become, reveled in the union so much, that they grieved separating from one another.

As Eric released his hold on the bracelet, they relaxed, and Pam slid onto the floor where she sat, arms crossed in expectation.

Eric stood and moved slowly to the bathroom, where he got a wet towel to clean them off. Rubbing away the evidence of their lovemaking from Carly's body, he noticed that the bite marks on her neck had already healed.

"What do you want, Pam?" Eric spoke slowly while he dressed. Carly still lay on the sofa in a fetal position, trying to regain her orientation to the world outside their union, to the mundane office in the back of a vampire club.

"Thalia and I have been waiting out there for you two for over an hour." Pam still crossed her arms petulantly.

"And?" Eric turned to regard his progeny before taking Carly up into his arms and helping her dress.

Pam finally stood and thrust her hip out to one side. "Look, it was quiet, so I thought you'd snuck off somewhere. I wasn't expecting to walk into some kind of," she shook her hand at Carly, "what the fuck?"

Eric growled at a low frequency, so low that Carly barely heard it, but Pam clearly did, since she stiffened visibly. "You will be respectful."

"Hey, you know I like Carly just about as well as I like anybody other than you. Don't give me that shit. But, damn it, Eric, it was like 'Encounters of the Third Kind' in here."

Once Carly was dressed entirely, Eric picked her up and placed her in his lap and let her . "What did you see?"

"You're telling me you don't know?" Pam's face wrinkled up as she said it. For the first time in quite some time, she was worried about her maker's safety.

"No."

"Well," Pam started to worry her hands together. "I couldn't see you. It was like there was a fiery blue egg sitting on the couch with lights flashing, and these fucking..."

"Yes?"

"Fuck, Eric, they looked like fucking animals jumping out in the flames, rampaging around and then blinking out. I am not happy about this-"

Eric smiled at her blandly and said, "I can tell, Pam." After kissing Carly on the brow, he asked, "Are you hurt?"

"No." Adjusting her skirt before walking forward, Pam demanded, "So Thalia wants to know how long she has to sleep down in the filth with the wolves."

"Until she is no longer needed." Eric felt Carly stir against him.

"I'm sorry, Pam," Carly squeaked quietly. "This is something new, and we're not really sure what's happening."

"Well, put a tie on the door-knob or something, will you?" Pam stalked out of the room and left the two lovers alone to cope with the new development in their lives together.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

A/N Sorry for the delay. It's been tough to keep pace. As usual, no copyright infringement is intended, although most of these characters are mine.

Night passed as Eric and Carly held each other on the couch, their bodies resting together, their hands joined together.

"It will be dawn soon," Carly spoke, squeezing Eric's hand as she did. "Don't you need to get home."

"I can rest here. No windows." Eric pushed a stray hair out of Carly's face. "Can you stay with me? Or do you need to go back to your house?"

"I don't know what to do." Carly leaned back and stretched. "I don't even know what day it is. I should probably go home, change, and go into work for a little while."

Eric checked his watch. "It's Thursday. Astonishing, isn't it? It feels like an eternity, so much has happened, but it hasn't even been a week."

"We've touched it, though, haven't we? Eternity?" Carly caressed Eric's face before continuing. "I don't know why it makes me feel so sad, when I've felt such ecstasy. Part of me wishes we could just surrender to it, but it feels like we'd be cheating to be in that state constantly, like we'd be running away from our responsibilities."

Drawing her into a close embrace, Eric whispered, "We do have responsibilities. Yours are more cosmic than mine, Carly, but I feel that something weighty has been left to us. I don't quite know what it is, but we have obligations now that will change our lives dramatically." A faint glimmer crossed his eyes, and his teeth popped out. "But I will continue to hunger for you, Carly."

"Nothing beats the sex addiction, does it, viking?" Carly laughed and licked at his fangs until he purred. "Is your car outside?"

"I think so," Eric replied. "I was in my travel coffin when we went to the airport, and I'd flown home from your house."

Carly smiled, "Well, give me your keys, so I can drive your hot rod."

"Mmm," Eric smiled, "any time at all."

After a languorous and drawn out good-bye, Carly left the club, locking up behind her and taking Eric's car. Since it was so early, she had more than enough time to drive home, shower, and head to work.

As she drove through Shreveport, she attended to the changes in her senses and her reaction times. Her field of vision seemed larger and sharper, but she felt less overwhelmed than she usually did behind the wheel, although the years in Albuquerque had cured her of nervous driving. She thought back to rush-hour traffic up Central Avenue on a Friday afternoon, to college students pouring out of the university parking lots, eager to get to their parties or their part-time jobs, to the cruisers in their low riders getting an early start on their weekend festivities, bouncing slowly along the road, tying up what little traffic moved easily. The tail-gating, drunkenness, and aggression of Albuquerque drivers inspired a resigned nihilism that she still felt even driving in more sedate circumstances.

But that nihilism had evaporated as she took in whole 180 degree vistas all in one glance, replaced by a feeling of complete control. As she approached her home, she caught a glimpse of police lights in her rear-view mirror before she looked down at her speedometer, which showed she was going 85 miles an hour. "Ah, shit."

Carly slammed on the breaks and pulled over immediately. She had no idea where Eric kept the registration—or if he kept registration in the car. Within seconds, she realized she also had no purse, no driver's license, no identification at all, and she couldn't recall immediately where she'd left it.

Turning off the car, putting her hands on the steering wheel in plain sight, Carly kept her eyes pointed ahead, periodically stealing a view in the left hand mirror. She saw the patrolman move slowly along the driver's side of the car, inching toward her door with his hand on his gun.

Carly muttered under her breath, "Seriously?"

The patrolman leaned down to look in the open window. "License, registration, and insurance, ma'am."

Carly smiled at the officer brightly. "Sir, I think the registration is in the glove box. This is my boyfriend's car."

"Then let's start with your license."

"Well," she giggled, "that's a problem. I can't remember where I left my purse last night. I'm just trying to get home now."

The officer pulled out a ticket pad. "You know that it's against the law in Louisiana to drive without your license."

"Yes, sir." Carly smiled again, more broadly this time. "I understand that I will be ticketed, but please be assured that I have a Louisiana driver's license in good standing. Would it be okay if I gave you my name? At least then you could see that I don't have any warrants out for my arrest?"

The officer remained unresponsive. "Let's go with registration and insurance, slowly."

Carly reached for the glove box as instructed and pulled the door open. When she opened the box, she sighed with relief that the only contents of the box were the manual and a ridiculously conventional insurance holder, which showed the car registered to "Northman Enterprises, LLC, Shreveport, Louisiana."

With the insurance and registration in hand, Carly spoke to the patrolman. "I guess my boyfriend has it registered under his company's name.

The officer inspected the registration and insurance, took down some information, and then gave it back to her. "Can you get out of the vehicle, ma'am?"

Startled, Carly responded, "Why?"

"Standard procedure, ma'am." As he backed away from the vehicle, he placed his hand on his gun holster.

Carly unbuckled her seat-belt and opened the car door entirely before she got out. "My boyfriend's not available right now, but I think I could reach one of his associates, although I don't have my cellphone either."

"I just need you to come stand behind the car, ma'am."

Following his instructions, and remaining silent, Carly moved to the back of the car, listening in to his thoughts as she took the steps.

_Can't take anything for granted with that the dead woman at the gas station last night, then those girls turning up drugged at that vampire club, and Detective Andrews looking for that artist he can't track down. Don't know what the hell's come over this town. _Audibly, he asked, "Please open the trunk."

After hearing Detective Andrews's name in the patrolman's thoughts, Carly had some hope she could get through this without being frisked (the best scenario) or arrested (the worst). "Sure." She clicked open the trunk. "I hate to bring this up, since I'm not one to ask for favors, but I work with the police from time to time. I'm a forensic artist with the Medical Examiner's office."

"Yeah?" He smiled suddenly. "Are you Carly Michael?"

She returned the expression with relief. "Yes. I'm sorry I'm such a dimwit and left my purse behind. I know one detective pretty well, Detective Andrews, and my boss and the district attorney can vouch for me as well."

The officer shut the trunk without looking in it and heaved a sigh. "You have no idea how worried they are about you, Miss Michael. Andrews is nearly fit to be tied."

"I've been out of town a couple of days." Carly couldn't understand why anyone would be so upset. Ellen knew she'd be gone.

"Well, I guess something's come up and they've been trying to reach you and haven't been able to get in touch."

Carly thought back to her cellphone, which she couldn't locate either—had she left it in Eric's apartment in New York? She couldn't recall any messages, and she thought that she'd used it since she'd been there, although she couldn't be absolutely certain. As she thought, she wished that she could put her hands on it, look it over, that she'd just left it in the trunk of Eric's car. With an overpowering and sudden certainty, she knew that was where it was, that she'd somehow summoned it there from wherever it had been.

"You know, sir, I didn't get a look in the trunk when I opened it for you. Could I open it again?"

The officer nodded to her as she clicked the button.

When it swung open, she saw her purse laid out neatly in the center of the trunk. "Look at that. I really am forgetful, huh?" Carly reached in and grabbed her purse and held it up to the officer. "I'll be damned. I guess I just am a little bit more jet-lagged than I thought I was."

"That's good news, Miss." The officer opened her door. "Check your messages, because I know Andrews wants to see you ASAP."

Carly smiled sweetly and walked back to the driver's seat, whereupon the patrolman closed the door tightly and leaned on the window frame. "Now, slow down a little, and check those messages and call before you start up again." With a tap on the frame, he strutted back to his car, got in, and radioed.

Unfortunately, Carly's phone was dead, no charge, not a glimmer, and Eric didn't have a charger in his car. Since Carly felt stirrings of hunger, she decided not to call any other things to her, since doing so clearly used whatever cosmic fuel powered her batteries.

Instead of going home, Carly drove directly to police headquarters, since she preferred not to deal with these issues over the phone. Miles Andrews had a brusque manner that too often came across as anger on the phone. When she worked with him in person, she found his affect reassuring—fatherly, vaguely humorous, competent.

After parking Eric's car as far from all the others as she could (so no one would scratch it), Carly hiked the distance to the front door, smoothed back her hair, tied it into a bun, and walked into the station with as much confidence as her crumpled outfit could convey. With any luck, it would suggest "jet-lagged traveler" rather than "oversexed bimbo" to the station personnel.

The station had a somewhat peculiar arrangement with the detective bureau accessible through a set of double doors just beyond the reception area. She didn't need permission to enter the bureau, but she did sign in at the desk, as required.

Within seconds of her entry, Miles Andrews recognized her and took a running jog toward her. "Where the hell have you been?"

Irritated that he somehow thought that she needed to be on call, Carly brought out her cellphone and shook it gently in front of him. "Dead phone. Sorry."

Andrews huffed and responded in kind, pointing at an outlet. "Charger?" Shaking off his frustration, Andrews finally smiled and said, "I'm sorry, it's just been a helluva couple of days. Must be the full moon or something, because we've had all hell break loose around here."

"I'm not usually on call for fresh bodies, Miles. Why were you trying to find me?"

He grabbed her arm gently and pulled her into a conference room, shutting the door behind him. "To be honest, it was that vampire of yours I was really looking for, since I guessed he'd be with you. I couldn't get anything out of those women at the club. During the day this ditzy bitty who could barely follow a sentence answered the phone, and at night some Elvira brushed me off without even a howdy-do."

Ginger and Pam-Carly recognized immediately the two obstacles he'd encountered in trying to reach Eric. "I thought you had his cellphone number?"

"I do, but I was getting the same response from it as yours. It was all scrambled up, with these weird echoes and buzzing. I left one message, I think, but I couldn't tell. It sounded like I was talking in a cave, and then there were all these beeps."

"When did you call?"

Andrews recorded his every move on a pad he kept in his breast pocket, which he pulled out and consulted. As soon as he started going through the times, Carly knew that he'd tried to reach them when they'd been "in transit"-when she'd sent them from one place to another through "her direct route." Who knows, she thought to herself, whether the phones even existed at that point? They might have been atoms scattered through a worm hole or distributed between dimensions.

"Well, we were in New York then," she lied, since she'd been in New York, over the Appalachians, in Turkey, in Sweden, beneath an apple tree in New Jersey, back in New York, and on her way to Shreveport. In between those locations, the two of them had been in a state of "in-between-ness" she could never hope to explain to anyone. "Maybe there was some electrical interference? Or our phones were roaming and not getting a signal properly?"

"No matter now, since we've got you two back in town. Do you think you could let him know I need him as soon as he's up tonight?" Andrews looked nearly frantic.

"Sure," Carly agreed without hesitation. "But can I do anything in the meantime?"

Andrews threw up his hands. "Who knows? I've got eight people dead and one crazy man locked in a cell downstairs. We're afraid to move him because he seems to be contained down there, but we know he needs medical care—he's full of glass and birdshot, and I've seen reports from all over the state of similar things, along with warnings about motorcycle gangs of three and four, who've been breaking into houses—vampires' houses—and attacking them. A couple of the vampires were able to hold 'em off. One sweet old gal near the Arkansas border heard them attacking her vampire neighbor and she blasted the one guy to kingdom-come with her shotgun. The others got on their bikes and took off.

"Do these bikes have Mississippi plates?"

"The one they recovered does." Andrews narrowed his eyes at her. "How did you know that? What's going on here, Carly?"

She'd agreed long ago that she'd act as Eric's intermediary whenever she could, but he'd demanded that she didn't divulge any secrets about vampires to humans. "Did you see the thing on CNN about Heinrich Himmler?"

The detective's eyes widened suddenly. "This has got something to do with him?" Andrews brushed his hand over his head.

"Indirectly, I think. Mississippi's vampires have had a power struggle because one of them was distributing his blood. I think that these might be addicts who found their supplies dried up."

Andrews rubbed his face with his palms. "Sounds like a bad B movie—cranked up Wild Ones go crazy over vampire blood."

"Cranked up?" Carly asked for clarification.

Andrews tried to explain. "Everything I've heard suggests these guys are strong—nearly vampire strong. The poor woman we found at the station had her arm ripped off, and it looks like they've got dogs with them too."

The realization hit Carly squarely in the stomach and she felt nausea explode like a grenade from her belly outward. "Dogs? She was bitten?"

"Eaten, damnit!" Andrews stretched his back. "I haven't seen anything so disgusting in a really long time. Even that crazy pharmacist left a less disgusting crime scene. We know that group isn't traveling on motorcycles, at least, but we don't have any idea about their vehicle. The station was trashed, so we don't have video either. Our video guys think they might be able to put a little of the surveillance tapes back together, but they found them shredded."

The visions from Lister's mind came back to Carly unsolicited and she wanted desperately to get out of the station—to get home or to work—so that she could forget the rape and cannibalism. Even though Lister had been in his wolf form when he tore into the poor woman's body, Carly still categorized it as cannibalism. Perhaps, within their society, werewolves made a distinction, but she couldn't possibly see how they could sustain that belief system. Of course, she never understood cannibalism in humans or other primates.

Shaking off these thoughts, Carly asked, "Why do you want Eric's help? Does he need to warn other vampires about the potential for attack?"

"For one, but we don't really know what we'll do with them once we get hold of them, especially if they're as strong as the guy downstairs."

Downstairs. Part of her wanted to ask if she could see the man, see within him, provide Andrews with additional leads that could help grab these forty or fifty werewolves before their rampage took more lives. Closing her eyes, swallowing to rally her courage, Carly asked, "Do you want me to talk to him?"

"Yes," Andrews nodded, "but honestly I don't know if you should do it without Northman. From what I've heard about vampires through the grapevine now, I'm guessing Northman could tear this guy's head off. As it stands, he's pumped full of Haldol, with glass embedded in his back and birdshot in his belly, and he's still been shaking the cage like King Kong."

They would have to wait for nine hours, at least, before Eric could be here with her. She asked herself if it was worth the risk?

"Well," Carly paused. "Could you come down there with me?"

"Are you willing?" Andrews looked hopeful.

"Guardedly." Carly rubbed her stomach again and then said, "Then let's get it over with. Maybe he'll be tired."

As they went downstairs to the holding cells, used primarily for detaining suspects prior to transferring them to the county jail, Andrews gave Carly the little information they had on the thug. The man, who called himself Mike Hamilton, carried a Florida driver's license that appeared to be stolen or a forgery. He'd been apprehended after attacking a vampire at a strip mall on the edge of the Shreveport city limits. According to Andrews, the vampire had thrown the man fifty feet through the front window of a convenience store. When the assailant threatened the convenience store clerk, the clerk unloaded his shotgun into him. The vampire pushed a shelf over onto the man and held him down until eight officers dragged him into a transport and to the station.

"Do you know who the vampire was?" Carly asked.

"She refused to give her name, and none of the officers felt like arguing with her. They said she was barely five feet tall but scary as hell."

Carly knew immediately it had to be Thalia. "This is a stupid question, but why didn't she just kill him?"

"She told the officers that there were too many people around." Detective Andrews shrugged. "I don't think she would have hesitated if it hadn't been so busy. She'd have saved the city some trouble. Three of the officers wound up in the ER."

When Carly and Miles passed through the locked metal door, Carly saw a line of four holding cells. Only two were occupied. One, on the end, had three catatonic teenagers in it, who Carly felt grateful, glimmered with the energy that stayed behind after a human death. With her attention focused on them for just a moment, Carly consumed the energy and fortified herself with it for the confrontation.

The werewolf, still beating on the walls and screaming even hours after his apprehension, was flanked by empty cells on either side. Carly saw that he'd bent the heavy gauge wire that kept prisoners from reaching through the bars into the other cells. A fine layer of masonry dust covered the floor at the front of the cell, and Carly observed the deteriorating plaster on the anchors in the ceiling. If he continued at this same level of intensity, he might actually break out of the cell, she thought.

"And he's injured?" Carly knew the answer, but she wanted to express her amazement somehow.

Andrews nodded seriously. "We have no idea of what he's hopped up on, but it hasn't worn off, even after ten hours. I'm guessing it's a combination of speed and vampire blood."

The werewolf slammed into the bars. "What are you lookin' at, vampire bitch?"

Carly looked around the holding area and realized that there were no windows and no clocks. If she hadn't just come from outside, she would have no way of knowing that it was daylight outside.

"I guess I need to get more sun," Carly joked with the detective, trying to avoid any uncomfortable questions.

"You want to fucking burn, whore? Come over here," the werewolf salivated, "so I can get a bite of you. I'm hungry."

Andrews put his hand on Carly's elbow. "You're not that pale, Carly. Why does he think you're a vampire?"

"Can't you smell the stink, asshole? She stinks like a vampire, so she's a fucking fanger." The wolf grabbed his crotch and growled, "Get over here and give me a taste."

"I don't think so, Mike." As she answered the impertinent werewolf, Carly tried to tune in to the wavelength of his frantic mind. His mind was moving so fast, so incoherently, she could hear nothing but a loud ringing. Nevertheless, she caught a few glimpses that were enough to shake her. Russell slashing across his throat, allowing blood to pour forth into waiting mouths; men shaking and quivering as they transformed into wolves, wolves so strong they were able to rip deer and men apart in seconds.

"Is Mike your real name?" The visions confirmed the wolf's membership in Russell's pack, but offered no explanation for his presence in Shreveport. Carly needed more information, starting with the beast's name.

The wolf laughed, then clutched at his ribs and struggled to take a breath. "You want to register for china, fanger?"

Carly laughed loudly at the wolf. "No, I'm spoken for, Mike. But is that your name?"

"Yeah, bitch." The wolf backed up from the front of the cell, groaning, and walked back to the cement block wall.

Carly caught another flash, an image of a Jacksonville, Florida, road sign. "How long has it been since you've been in Jacksonville?"

The werewolf turned toward her and growled, before he took a running leap at the bars. More plaster fell from the ceiling. Andrews drew back from the bars and grabbed at Carly's shoulder, but she shrugged him off and moved toward the bars.

"Why do you need a fake Florida ID, Mike?" Carly decided to capitalize on his assumption that she was a vampire and push a glamour onto him. Since she could glamour vampires, she anticipated no problem with a werewolf.

Calming slightly under her power, the werewolf took a deep breath and said, "I got a couple names. Hamilton's my mom's name. I got warrants under my real name."

"What is your real last name, Mike?" Her voice calm, Carly continued to subdue the werewolf.

"Edmunds," he whispered. "I'm Mike Edmunds."

"Did you come to Louisiana alone, Mike?"

"No," Mike shook his head. "I came here with my buddies, Cooter and Jedd. I was waiting for them to come back from a job, but they never come back."

Andrews asked, "Where did you come from?"

Mike stood silently, hanging off the front grill of the cell. Carly had to direct Mike to answer.

"Jackson, Mississippi." The werewolf groaned slightly and shifted his weight to the other leg, still hanging off the bars. "I'm in the King's pack."

"Is that the name of their gang?" Andrews's reflected his confusion. "Who's this king?"

"Is Russell your master?" Carly intensified the glamour, trying to control the wolf before he divulged something she couldn't explain to the detective.

The wolf shuddered and then grunted, "Yeah, I serve him." After another spasm, the wolf started vomiting up a noxious stream of food and blood.

Andrews jumped in front of Carly and pushed her against the back wall so they could escape the spray. "God damn it! We'll have to get him to the hospital doctor. He must have internal injuries."

With a burst of strength, the wolf slammed against the bars, knocking them free from their ceiling anchors. "You're not getting out of here, pig." The wolf growled, and Andrews ran for the exit, dragging Carly behind him. The ceiling anchors dislodged, the door to the cell proved a minor obstacle to the beast who climbed over it as if it were a chain-link fence. The other inmates backed against the far wall, too frightened to try to secure their own escape.

Andrews and Carly made it out the exit of the holding area before Mike reached them, but not before he slammed himself against the exit and pushed through into the offices outside the detention cells.

Carly saw all of the action in slow motion. She faced Mike, even though she'd fallen backward as Andrews had pulled her through the door. The crazed wolf scowled and screamed at the police officers, who retreated to the armory as quickly as they could to retrieve their weapons. When Mike spotted Carly on her ass, hands behind her, he laughed and jumped toward her to attack.

Detective Andrews tried to cover her, to shield her from attack, but she pushed him away, confident that she could deal with the threat herself.

Mike flattened himself against her and taunted her. "Give me a taste, vamp bitch!" He bared his teeth and lunged toward her neck, but not before Carly raised her hands to push against his chest. Aware that ten police officers were watching her and expecting the wolf to tear her throat out, Carly focused her mind and visualized current pulsing through her hands, invisible lightening penetrating the wolf's chest and silencing his heart. The wolf sputtered, spat up more blood, and collapsed on top of her.

She pushed the werewolf off her, scrambled to standing, and took in the gory mess that covered her shirt and pants. "Shit."

A crew of police officers rushed to the wolf and pulled him away from her, turned him over, and took his pulse. Feeling none, the diagnosing officer, a young man only on the force for a year and scared to death, said authoritatively, "Nothing. He's dead, detective."

"Of course he is," Carly muttered.

"What?"

Andrews scowled, and Carly realized she'd been too flippant.

"I mean," she corrected, "why would he live long enough to be helpful."


End file.
